Bake-danuki (化け狸), a mischievous shape shifting Yōkai (妖怪) found in Japanese mythology, resembling a tanuki, or Japanese Racoon Dog.

16

Yara touched a nerve insinuating that Astaroth would look for a loophole to get out of their marriage, will that finally get her talking or will it get worse?

“Asti, please, don’t....I...I don’t know how to handle this…I’m scared..” Finally she admitted it, a bit muffled since his finger hadn't moved. One tear making a slow trek down her cheek.  She’d been afraid of losing him before, but now it was utter terror.  She was messing up and now she’d gone and made him mad.

From shushing her, as he saw that his words had finally broken through the wall she’d put up and getting her to say what was wrong, to cupping her cheek and wiping her tear with his thumb, Astaroth’s expression and voice instantly softened.  “Of?”  He thanked whatever deity had helped  him this time silently, and also the Fates. 

“These women are confident and seductive, goddesses and succubi. I'm a mess, in all ways.  The woman you were talking to today annoyed you, but what about next time?  What if your mind changes about wanting this to work? What if you no longer want me?” her voice dropped in volume and was strained for her next words, “just like everyone else has in my life?”  Her voice trembled and cracked, her whole body began to tremble, and more tears escaped the confines of her eyes where she'd been trying to hold them in making small rivers as they traversed her cheeks.

Now it was Astaroth’s turn to sit mute and consider his response, consider it very carefully.   He wished for something stronger than the demon's brew he had, which he finished in one swallow now, to give him a moment to think of something to say.  Some day he was going to kill Lucifer, but he was going to do it excruciatingly slowly and painfully. There was no reason his wife should suffer like this, doubt what he’d said, what he’d vowed.

“Darling, this is not the place for this conversation.” In an instant they were back in the cabin on the beach, on the couch. Yara’s flowers from earlier were in a vase on the table.  “Now, this is better.” He sighed and tightened his hold on her hand slightly.  “Yara, I don't know how many ways I can say the same thing till you understand. I thought we had agreed, that you understood.”  He now knew what the problem was but he had no idea how to fix it. “Together.  We’re going to do this, TOGETHER.  Always. No other way.  No one else.  You and me.  What happened in the past with anyone else is irrelevant. I can’t undo who I have been with.  From now on, there is only you.  We are TOGETHER.  I vow it to the Primus Sator.”  He knew what he’d just done, and hoped she would not make him regret it.

Now her tears flowed and she tried to pull away, to flee like she always did. She wanted to hide till the hurt in her chest was gone.  The problem was, he wouldn't let her.  His grip on her hand was tight, and he was holding her face with his other hand. She was trapped.  Trapped with someone who just like her father, her brothers, her mother, any friends, and every lover, would throw her away when he no longer had a use for her. Trapped with someone that she didn't want to lose.  Trapped with someone who was starting to mean something to her.  Trapped with someone who...had just made a vow that hadn’t sunk in yet.

“Everyone leaves!” Her voice shook almost as much as her body, and her eyes dropped to the middle of his chest. “Before tonight I was able to delude myself that..” She took a stuttered breath and tried to continue, “that we could do this and you would want it to work.  That somehow we could figure it out and you’d be happy with whatever we came up with. Seeing women I could never compete with in any way, ready to take my place…it made me feel all unsure and unsteady again.  I always end up alone, Astaroth.”  Her eyes slowly rose to look at his. “I realized how easy it would be to lose you. How you had options that were far superior to me.  I can't compete or compare.  You know I'm an emotional mess.  Why would you choose that?” Her voice broke, she licked her lips, then bit down on the bottom one.

 “Did you hear what I just said?” His voice was quiet.  He now understood she was battling demons he couldn’t fight for her.  He’d given her a weapon, but she hadn’t picked it up.  Astaroth wasn’t sure that she’d even noticed it.  He had to get her to pay attention to what he’d said, not what she’d expected him to. 

“You said that we were going to do this together.  I know.  I know that’s what you said, but your mind could change. Women who are gorgeous and easier to deal with could offer you a different life.  You could find someone that you have a connection with that is stronger.”  Yara was fighting hysteria.  At the moment she was winning, but she wasn’t sure how much longer that she could hold out.

“What exactly  did I say?  Repeat it?”  Astaroth tried to will her to remember.  To have heard the words.  The vow he made was unbreakable.  He’d made it full well knowing that.  He also knew there was a fuck ton more going on than either of them knew, and he trusted the Fates a lot more than he trusted Lucifer’s machinations.  If they allowed the wedding, then there was a reason.  

“You said we’re going to do it together.  You and me. No one else. Just us.  We can’t change the past, so we’re going to ignore it.  Just you and me, together.”  Yara was reciting it, her head alternating back and forth with her sing-song voice, changing the words a little as she went.  Astaroth nodded along as she did, waiting for her to get to the part that he hoped she would realize how much this all meant to him.  When she paused after the last part he wasn’t sure if she hadn’t heard, hadn’t realized, or was thinking on it.  Then her eyes went wide as she looked at his, and he knew.  “You...you..Asti..you swear… to the Primus Sator…the Creator?” Her brows started coming together, a mixture of shock and incredulity coming to her face.  “Really?  For me?  For us?  You’re sure?”  Her eyes searched his face.  Was she understanding him correctly?  Had he thought about this?  “You can’t take that back...Asti! You can’t!”  Her eyes searched his.  What was he doing?

“Yes, really.  For US.  I know exactly what I have done, my Papilio, and I damn well meant it.   I do not know what it is that truly brought us together in this, but I intend to find out.  You can work with me or against me, but you are now stuck with me.  Sorry!” Astaroth smirked amused, looking into her beautiful green eyes, and realizing that he was falling in love for the very first time.

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I don’t know if any non-Jews noticed this in the last d20 ep but Brennan has changed how he refers to Gulsum, the Mordred Manor real estate guy, from golem to construct! When Gulsum was first referenced in sophomore year he was called a flesh golem, but in junior year he has been called a flesh construct. In episode 12 of FHJY Brennan even made sure to correct himself when he misspoke and said golem instead of construct, which proved to me this was an active effort on his part.

The term golem comes from Jewish mysticism and has religious connotations so some Jewish people find it offensive when the term gets co-opted into fantasy settings without regard for the original source. It’s cool to see Brennan moving away from that and trying to find less loaded terms to use instead, like construct.

Prompt 245

Now Danny would openly admit, if only to himself, that he had a type when it came to relationships. If they were strong, if they were a threat to him, then chances were he would develop some sort of crush. It was how he had dated Sam and Valerie (And Johnny & Kitty) when he was a bit younger, and hell, Sam had technically succeeded in killing him, even if partly. 

Attraction towards smart people who could kill him was honestly par for the course for a Fenton or Nightingale anyway. 

And he’d also admit he enjoyed a bit of time travel, learning about times and culture long before his time, to the point that he could blend in in ancient times just as easily as the time he had been born in. That it was natural to mutter in a language lost to time. 

So color him surprise when another man perks up in the bar he had paused to get a drink in, vibrant green eyes gleaming in interest and responds in turn. And not just in the language, but able to keep up when he talks about things that once existed but haven’t been rediscovered yet. 

And one thing led to the other, and there might have been some assassins and some shenanigans that end with them both laughing together in an inn and then more and- Okay he has a type alright, and he’s ticking each box! How is that fair? 

Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girl found dead in a hidden room.

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I think a lot about Leo’s tendency to push his way into the spotlight despite clearly being a natural in the shadows. Hell, you could argue that his worst moments are when he’s forcing himself onstage, and his best are when he does things no one notices until it’s already been done.

ouch